Rise
by TheWitch'sDorothy
Summary: Elphaba Thropp is a child born in hell. To escape the pit of Southstairs is her only hope of survival. A kind of The Dark Knight Rises/Wicked crossover.


**A/N: This is what happens when I spend three hours listening to Bane's Theme on YouTube and watching Wicked videos. I might continue this if I get enough positive feedback, so read and review! :)**

The light of day doesn't come quickly in hell.

It creeps up at the circular edges of the pit, the first rays of the early dawn light falling onto the upturned faces of the damned souls who have the misfortune of inhabiting it. Some reach their hands up as though they can grasp in light in their dirt-covered hands, somehow keep it from ever leaving them once night falls. They shut their eyes and bask in its glory, the golden rays their only salvation and reprieve from the dank darkness that bathes the rest of Southstairs, or as it is more commonly called by inhabitants and citizens of Oz alike: the Pit.

The Pit is a quite fitting nickname; Southstairs is a prison dug deep into the ground, with walls made of hard, unforgiving brick. Cells line the bottom walls of the place, but prisoners rarely stay in their cells, seeing as the doors are almost never locked. Southstairs has few rules and fewer guards, who are only there to dole out food and water rations to the inmates. It is a place where brutality and fear are king, a place where all innocence about the ways of the world must be stamped out in order for survival. In a place like this, one wouldn't expect there to be much innocence at all. They would be wrong.

Ten-year-old Elphaba Thropp raised her face to the sun, feeling the rays of light warm her face and body through the thin gray shirt and pants she wore. Her raven-black hair framed her face, with its skin of a bright verdant color. She gave a small sigh of contentment as she sat there, safe in a cell with a locked door. A door that was kept locked ever since her mother's murder by the other inmates of Southstairs.

"Fae? You awake?" Fiyero's voice was hushed, but it rang loud and clear through the cell. Elphaba opened her eyes and turned her head to face the only friend she had.

Despite the fact that he was thin and wearing the same threadbare clothing as all prisoners, Fiyero Tiggular was handsome, tall man in his mid twenties with unruly black hair that curled at the ends and brown eyes that managed to twinkle with as much mischief as if he was a schoolboy. He didn't smile that all that often, but since smiling wasn't what one typically did while in Southstairs, it didn't really matter. No one knew what the man was in Southstairs for and nobody really cared. If you were in Southstairs, you were guilty.

Elphaba nodded wordlessly, giving Fiyero a small smile. He simply nodded in return and unlocked her door, quickly slipping inside and locking it before the other prisoners could react. He knew better than anyone that innocence couldn't survive in the Pit, but that wouldn't stop him from trying to allow it to. To him, Elphaba was like a small, delicate flower in a field of dead grass, a view that was reinforced by her brilliantly emerald skin.

"Fae, are you listening?" He asked, facing the young girl. Elphaba nodded again, her face immediately becoming serious. "Today you're leaving the Pit." Elphaba's chocolate eyes widened and she gasped, knowing exactly what Fiyero meant.

Every so often, someone would try to climb out of the Pit. The bricks on the walls were arranged in such a way that they could easily be used as handholds and footholds, up until a certain point where there was a flat piece of concrete set into the wall, wide enough to stand on and long enough for a few steps. A bit higher up there was another piece of concrete. If you could make the jump from one piece to the other, it was an easy ascent to the top of the Pit. But it was the deceptively easy jump to the second concrete slab that killed all who had tried. Elphaba had nightmares about it, about hearing the screams of the doomed men and women who fell to their bloody deaths on the hard-packed dirt and stone floor of the Pit.

"Yero, that's-" She began.

"Impossible? No it's not, Fae, not for you. You're different than the rest of us; you're a child. A child born and raised in hell, but that's what makes you strong," Fiyero told her, looking deep into the child's eyes. "Your mother died protecting you from this place. She made me give her my word that I would get you out of here. And now that's exactly what you're going to do."

Elphaba took a deep breath and nodded again, but couldn't hide the fear in her eyes. She began to tremble slightly and Fiyero took her hand, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

"Yero, why did they do it?" She asked softly, her eyes mournful and tired, eyes that had seen too much in their decade of life. Fiyero sighed, running a free hand through his hair.

"They- the other prisoners- think that in a place like this, innocence and hope don't exist, that all signs of it should be stamped out immediately and without remorse. As a child, you embody these things to them and they hate you for it." Fiyero set his jaw as he remembered that day five years ago. He remembered Melena's screams and how she had thrust Elphaba into his arms and told him: "Protect her until she is old enough. Then get her out of this hell." Then she had turned around and grasped at the knife she hid under her clothes, making her final stand against the men who tried to kill her child.

He shook his head, clearing his mind for the task at hand, and continued to explain to Elphaba.

"Now when I open the door, you run for the wall and start climbing. Don't look back and don't turn around. Even if I'm screaming in pain, you don't come back, you keep climbing. Understand?" Fiyero's voice shook, but he stared into Elphaba's eyes and gripped her forearms tightly, his urgency getting through to the child like a hot knife through butter.

"I understand," she whispered. He nodded, satisfied and got up, pulling Elphaba up with him. Carefully, he unlocked the cell door and pushed it open, roughly shoving Elphaba in front of him. "Run."

Elphaba ran, her sandaled feet slapping against the ground. She felt every sharp rock under the thin leather sole of the sandals as she weaved her way through the cells and prisoners. She heard Fiyero behind her, his harsh breathing and heavy steps reassuring her. Then she heard the angry shouts of the prisoners and she ran faster, knowing that they were now in pursuit of the two of them. The air seared her lungs as she drew breath, her black hair streaming like a flag out behind her. Adrenaline and fear were the only things keeping her steady on her feet.

As she reached the wall, she felt Fiyero's arms around her waist, lifting her up to the lowest set of hand and foot holds. She turned her head enough to see him give her a weak smile- the only smile she'd ever seen him give- to her before he fell back into the mass of prisoners that awaited him. Elphaba stayed there frozen with horror, watching as the prisoners began to grab at Fiyero's clothing, punching and kicking him.

"Elphaba, GO!" He screamed, tears blurring his vision and turning Elphaba into a smear of emerald on a dark gray wall. He felt the prisoners hands dragging him to the ground, scraping and clawing at him, furious that he had prevented them from getting who they had truly sought for so long.

His cry seemed to jolt Elphaba out of whatever reverie she had been in. She began to climb, feeling the rough rock shred at her hands and fingers. More than once she lost her footing but she held on doggedly, gritting her teeth through the pain, the memory of Fiyero's sacrifice fresh in her mind. As she stood on the first slab of concrete, she gazed down at the pit. The figures that swarmed it seemed so small and insignificant, more like children's toys than anything threatening. But as she looked down, fear slammed into her gut and she almost vomited, doubling over. Whatever fight she had left drained out of her and she stayed, paralyzed, on the little outcropping of concrete.

Suddenly, she heard an animalistic squeal from a hole in the bricks just above her head. She looked up in confusion and as she did, a swarm of bats flew out, squeaking and flapping their leathery wings.

Elphaba didn't cower; she merely stood there stoically as they flew around her, shutting her eyes and picturing her mother and Fiyero's faces. She imagined their words of comfort, remembered every time they told her she would endure. Her eyes snapped open and a calm filled her.

Elphaba closed her eyes once more, took two steps, and leaped.


End file.
